


Things She Knows, Things She’d Never Guess

by Finnspiration



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Asexual Rey, Bad Dreams, Fear, Friendship, Gen, Grief, Happy Ending tho, Leia has angst, Leia has lots of angst, Love, M/M, Rey longs for parents, Stormpilot, Sweet, Woman stuff, adjusting to life, everyone has angst, finn and rey are besties, how to deal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-06-10 13:59:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6959764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finnspiration/pseuds/Finnspiration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rey has a lot of things to learn, adjusting to life with the Resistance.  Sometimes she has nightmares.  Sometimes she's afraid, even when she tries to be brave.  Then one morning she wakes up...bleeding to death.</p><p> <br/>~</p><p>ANGSTY EXCERPT</p><p>And in weak moments, when she had to cry (just a few tears, because really, they were a waste of water), she wanted to be loved, the way Han had loved Kylo Ren, enough to die for him.  </p><p>Why couldn’t he have loved her enough to live for her?  </p><p>  <i>I’d have gone with you.  I’d have been your crew.  If only you’d have lived, I’d have gone to the end of the galaxy for you.</i></p><p>It wasn’t enough: no one had ever loved her that much.  No one ever would.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> takes place after "Things to Learn, Things to Unlearn"
> 
> 3 chapters long - 13,000+ words total

 

**Things She Knows, Things She’d Never Guess**

 

Rey woke with a gasp.  There were sometimes when it felt like Kylo Ren was still in her head still there, prying, asking her things in his soft voice that wouldn’t have been frightening, if he hadn’t been powered by the dark side.

Hate.  He was ruled by hate.  It scared her.  There had been lots of bad things on Jakku.  She didn’t feel like she was driven by love, that was for sure.  She was driven by _survival_.  But to have so much hate inside you, to have so much power and use it to hurt people…

That made her shudder.  She had almost never been cold on Jakku.  It was a terribly hot place, where you worried about getting enough water and food and shelter, not about staying warm.  Here on D’Qar, she got cold sometimes.  It was strange, because it wasn’t so terribly chilly, it’s just that there were places where it was cold.  Shade.  Night.  Tunnels where the sun never touched.

The sun played coy here; it wasn’t so bright and hot, there were days when it was overcast, rainy, strangely dim.  

It was beautiful and magical, but it was also very different from what she’d ever known before.

There was so much green here, and water, and food, and people.  People with whom she wasn’t in competition.  People she could be friends with, or ignore, or team up with, or anything.

Their survival depended on working together, towards a common team goal.  They didn’t have to be isolated.

Rey liked having her privacy and isolation, but she also liked having a choice about when and where.  It was lovely to be around Finn, and his friend (boyfriend?) Poe, and the other pilots, to talk about ships, to make friends and allies, to learn new things.

There was so much going on here.  Instead of scavenging for parts, she could spend her time learning about different sorts of ships, and history, and from books about the Force.

If there were no actual Jedi to train with, at least there were people who knew things, who could answer questions.  It was strange to have her questions met with answers, with interest, instead of kicks or laughter or, if she worked hard enough, bargains.

Here, you didn’t bargain for information.  You could learn as much as you wanted.  She glutted on learning, and food, and water, and rest.

And every morning, she woke up with the echo of that voice, that awful and tender voice asking her to join him on the Dark Side.  It was terrifying, because she had gotten to know him, somehow, in that way they were connected, when he interrogated her and she pushed back.

She didn’t want to know him.

She didn’t want to know how incredibly lonely he was.

Even when he’d ruined everything, destroyed everything and been trying to kill her and Finn--he’d still asked her to join him.

He said he wanted to be her teacher, but that was laughable.  He wanted her to be his friend.

He wanted them to work side by side, using the Force to do bad things, like taking over the galaxy and making everyone obey, destroying systems and crushing dissidents underfoot.

He wanted to unite the galaxy, in what he thought it should be--lockstep order, precision, and darkness.  Such darkness.  She felt cold when she thought about the darkness, the swirling awfulness of his mind…his heart...his power.

Such power.  You could do good things with power, she was almost certain of it.  She’d never really had any, before all of this, but she was certain that it you had power you could do good things with it, not just hatred-powered things.

But his mind...the glimpses she’d gotten...it was an awful place to live.  She couldn’t go there, she could never have been his friend and helper.  

She could never have fixed his loneliness, even if he hadn’t killed Han Solo.  (That wound still tore at her every single day, an ache like the one of being left behind.  Because she always was left, wasn’t she?)

And Kylo--Ben--hadn’t been.  He’d gone away on his own and joined the dark side and done terrible things.  

He’d helped destroy a whole planet.  He was a terrible mass murderer.  What gave him the right to feel pain, to feel lonely and frightened?

What gave him the right to be...fragile?

There was something broken about him, something deeply damaged that she didn’t understand, didn’t want to understand.  It unsettled her.

What if that’s what using the Force did to a person?  What if that’s what you became?

So while she did the exercises General Organa gave her, she didn’t focus too hard on them, shrinking away from the power that she’d begun to tap.

With Kylo Ren as her enemy, and her life on the line to fight for, and Finn’s, well, then it had been worth it.  

Now?  It wasn’t.

It was worth it to live and learn and survive, to find a new way of living on a new world.  

Every morning she woke up, she felt like she was forgetting something, like she was late for something.

And she’d remember: I don’t have to scavenge.  I don’t have to go out in the burning sun, working till my whole body aches and my throat burns from thirst.  

She never had to know the depths of hunger she’d known before, either.  There was always a little food she could keep handy, or a lot, and she ate every single meal they gave her.  

At first, before she realized the food would just keep coming, she’d saved a little something from every meal, so she’d have more for later.

Then, when she’d found out they had free energy bars for when you were on the go, she’d taken one every single day and hidden it.

She had seven stashes of food all around the place, in her room and elsewhere, where no one else would be likely to find them.  Enough food in each one to last for more than a two days.  Dry, packaged foods you could eat on the run.  

There were so many tastes.

She would never have to run from here, would she?

Yet Rey’s whole life had taught her that there was no one else who would or could keep her safe, and that there were very few who would even try.

Finn.

Finn would try.

But he wasn’t the strongest person in the galaxy--that was probably Snoke, a very bad person whoever he was, and stronger than Kylo Ren in the Force, and in all things evil.

She made plans about what she would do, where she’d go, how she would run or fight, or fight and then run.  The world had broken apart under her feet, while she fought Kylo.  Her friend had died.

Yet she’d survived, and Finn had survived and was stronger every day.

The universe hadn’t ended, when Han died.  It hadn’t ended when a whole planet was destroyed.  It hadn’t ended when she discovered a talent for using the Force that both amazed and frightened her.

It was so easy, when she was angry and hurting and desperate, to tap into it.  Like it was a power circuit, waiting to have the switch flipped.

But if she flipped the switch too many times, would she turn into Kylo Ren?  Would she re-name herself Rey Ren, or something hokey like that?  Would she wear a mask and think she was tough and awesome, and be so lonely and dark inside, like Ben?

Would she want to join him, in ruling the galaxy and bossing people around and making the whole place into a world of awful sameness?

She wanted to go back to being an ordinary person.  Except, not hungry and not lonely.

She’d never been lonely the way he was, though.

She’d been alone, and...and it had been okay.  Sometimes it hurt, but she’d had resolve, and she’d occupied her mind and body in ways that worked, and taken care of herself.  There had been strength in her self-reliance.  There had been many old pains, and sometimes new ones, but there wasn’t the awful gaping torment of loneliness that Ben held.

He needed, like a black hole, and it would swallow up anyone who got in its way.  He’d killed Han, partly to fill that voice--and she knew it hadn’t worked.  He hadn’t gotten rid of his need, or managed to actually please Snoke, or silenced the pain and fear inside him.

What an awful place his head must be to live.  It frightened her so sometimes.  Because how did anyone who was born from Han Solo and General Organa become someone so...lost?

Before, it had been enough to have food.  To survive another day, eat, sleep, and daydream.  Now, there was so much more.  

A strange restlessness filled her.  It hurt sometimes.  To not know what to do with all the more there was in the world.  She could fill the day with machines and people and books and learning and walking around the wide wonderful green world.

But at the end of the day, she was both overwhelmed and restless.  Because she had survival.  She had what she needed--but she needed more, now.

She needed to use the Force.  Now that she knew she could, it kind of hurt when she kept from it.

But what if it turned her bad, like Ben/Kylo?

What if she turned into the kind of person who could kill Han Solo, or her friends, or anyone?

It hurt.

She hated only one man in the galaxy with a burning passion, Kylo Ren, but what if the Force took hold of that rage and pain and hate and hurt and turned her into something that would do that to someone else?

Before, it had been enough to survive.

Now, she needed to not hurt anyone.

She hadn’t known her own strength before.  Maybe she hadn’t even had that strength, it had just showed up one day.  But it was here now, and she couldn’t really turn it off.

_If I don’t learn to use it, I don’t know what will happen.  It will still be there, I think._

_But if I learn to use it, and then it gets twisted into something bad, if I get twisted into something bad, then what?_

_What if no one can stop me?_

Surely, if Ben had ever been a good person, he must have been terrified of what he was becoming, before he stopped caring.  

Why hadn’t someone stopped him, while they still could?  Had he begged for that, cried for it, curled around himself in the middle of the night, wanting to die before he turned the rest of the way evil?

Or had he wanted it, leapt into it, rejoiced in evil and never in good?

Had he ever been the sort of person who looked at a bird and smiled just because it was there, who saw wonder in the universe the way Finn did, or had he always been something dark and cold and _mean_?

He had destroyed millions.

But he had been Leia’s son, Han’s son, and perhaps once he’d been someone’s friend.

The knowledge of these things, and how they just didn’t fit together--it tormented her at night.  It made her toss and turn and most of all, it made her very afraid.

If Han and Leia could produce something so evil, what chance did anyone else have?  What chance did the galaxy have?

 _I’m never having children_ , she thought, letting her hands lie flat on her stomach, the place where babies grew.

She had a child’s understanding of sex, but had quickly learned more from research.  In a way, she knew, had always known, how it worked, and what it meant.  

Pair bonding, for many species.  The way they had to work together to ensure the survival of the species.  The male implanting seed in the female, who carried the offspring to birth.  

Egg laying species might be luckier, she mused, because they didn’t have to get so attached, and they didn’t have to carry the babies around inside them.

It was a better design.  But maybe the human race only worked if they had this need for bonding.  It seemed better for most people than being alone.  Being alone hurt people: not all of them, but lots of them.

Even Rey, who had always managed well on her own, she was still happier around her friends.  She felt more real around other people.  And it was nice to have people to talk to, people to learn from and like and laugh with.

Sometimes, it felt so good to be around her own kind.  There had been humans on Jakku.  But it had never felt like a place where it was really about being human, where humans could bond with or rely on one another.

Everyone had been in competition, and there was no one to trust.  If she’d met a male her own age in normal circumstances, she’d have beaten him away from her stuff with her staff.  It was the only way to stay safe.  She certainly wouldn’t have considered breeding with him--with anyone.

It would be a waste of resources.  And she would probably die.

#

Now, there were choices, but she still felt a lack of desire to even think about breeding, or pairing up with anyone, the way Finn and Poe were.  (The laughter.  The giggling.  The touching.  The kisses.  Oh, they thought they were subtle, but they weren’t: they weren’t!)

It was sweet, actually, and interesting because, being two men, it wasn’t about breeding for them.  It was just the bonding, the closeness.  And probably the hormones, too, but she didn’t really want to think about that.  They were both her friends, and she didn’t need to picture them naked, thanks.

Would she want that someday?

Something in Rey said NO.  It wasn’t an angry no, or a frightened no, but it was a firm one, and it wasn’t just about having babies.

She didn’t want to share her bed, her heart, her life that way.  She loved Finn.  He’d come back for her.  He’d become more important to her in a few days than anyone else had previously in her entire life.

But she didn’t want to give herself to anyone that way, and the hormonal stuff just didn’t motivate her.  She knew herself well enough to realize that, if she ever had sex, it would be from some reason other than desire, and that felt...wrong.  Dishonest, even.

_I don’t want a baby._

_I don’t want to have sex for myself._

_Why should I have it for anyone else?_

There were plenty of women in the galaxy, apparently some of whom liked sex.  Even liked it a lot.

Let them have it, and those with whom they wanted to.  Having learned what she needed to know, Rey was content to leave it all behind now.

She needed something, though.  Some...purpose.

Breeding or bonding was not going to be it for her.  Friendship was more fulfilling than she’d dreamed it could be, and it made her happy.  She didn’t want any other kind of bond, although...sometimes...when she was near General Organa, she was aware of a self-conscious yearning.  A desire to understand and be mentored by and...and loved.

It was sort of like the way she’d felt about Han, looking up to him and wanting him to like her, wanting to be friends but not quite.  It was like she wanted them to be her parents, which was probably quite stupid of her.

Rey had never needed anyone.  Not really.  She’d done quite well on her own.

She shouldn’t need parents now, when she was fully grown.  Why, she was a grownup herself.

She was learning to fly all the different ships on the base, repairing machinery, learning the layout, learning about all the different life forms on the planet, and decorating her very own bedroom in a style that was all her own.  Bits of machinery, pictures, plants, and a couple of very small dolls.  She still scavenged, in her own way: just not to survive now, but to decorate her room in a way that pleased her.  And because she had time on her hands, she could change it as often as she liked.  It was lovely.

She was even learning to cook.  Making friend with all the droids (they had a lot to teach, if anyone ever wanted to listen), and learning to speak new languages, and...and everything.

She wanted everything.

Most of all, she wanted to let go of the Force, and to forget how much it had hurt, losing Han, and having her mind probed, and...and how much it had hurt seeing inside his head.

She wanted to be free from that, to be a normal person again.  And in weak moments, when she had to cry (just a few tears, because really, they were a waste of water, weren’t they?), she wanted to be loved, the way Han had loved Kylo Ren, enough to die for him.  

Why couldn’t he have loved her, enough to live for her?  

_I’d have gone with you.  I’d have been your crew.  If only you’d have lived, I’d have gone to the end of the galaxy for you._

It wasn’t enough: no one had ever loved her that much.  No one ever would.

Leia, she felt, tried, and yet there was a reserve there.  A deep reserve, in how she chose her words, how she stared sometimes, how she picked what they talked about and studied so very carefully.

Was she afraid of Rey?

No.  She was afraid of caring about Rey.

Han had been broken, deeply broken in some way she could never fully understand.  Maybe he’d felt like he could fix things by taking Kylo Ren back to his mother, if he’d have agreed to go, to get free of the dark side.

Maybe he’d just wanted to die…

But Leia Organa?  She’d lost so much, and she didn’t want to care about anyone else.

She didn’t think Rey was dangerous.  She just didn’t want to love anyone else ever again.

And Rey understood that.  She did.  She didn’t know how many people she could let into her heart before it hurt too much, because everyone you lost left a scar that would never truly fade away.

But still...she needed.  She wanted.  It was an ache she couldn’t send away, not entirely.  

#

Finn loved her still.  Even preoccupied as he was with his boyfriend, he had time to play holo chess with her, and hug her, and talk.  Whenever she wanted to.

She knew there was no one more important to him than her, not even Poe.  It was an equal thing: she was his best friend, Poe was his boyfriend.  She felt no jealousy over that relationship.  She was happy for him.

They clearly made each other smile and smile and feel glad to be alive: that could only be a good thing...

But he would always take the time to wrap his arms around her, and just hold her, and make her feel safe again.  

BB-8 was another surprising friend.  She’d done all she could to help the droid, and now he did all he could to help her, when she was trying so hard to fit in, or find her way, or figure out what she’d just missed.

A few querulous beeps from the little droid, and she’d be on the right path again.  Sometimes, he came to her room.

And she knew droids couldn’t really read minds, but it seemed like he came on the nights when she needed him most.

He rolled near her, plugged into a power source, and went into low power mode, with only a small light shining to keep her company.

He whistled and peeped and carried on something fierce if she had a bad dream, though, and his noises carried her back to civilization, back to real life, and away from restraints and mind probes, away from light sabers slicing through trees, and screams of pain from Finn.

Finn was okay.  He was alive, and safe, and happy, she reminded herself, when she woke up panting and sweating, and wild-eyed, her heart pounding…

The droid beeped reassurances to her, rolling nearer, nudging up against her like a pet, like a friend.  She could never have stood for even Finn to see her so vulnerable, but somehow, it was all right with BB-8.  She could trust this droid, now and always, and he would never betray her vulnerable heart.

“You need a teacher,” spat Kylo Ren in her dreams, and she knew he was right.

But that wasn’t what he’d wanted, and he wasn’t the one who could teach her.  He wasn’t the one.

Only the legendary Luke Skywalker, if the ever found him.  If he even existed anymore, alive and not on the dark side.

Leia claimed her was definitely alive, and she, perhaps, would know.  No one else did.

In the meantime, she had only Leia’s reluctant Force training to help her find some balance, and friends and books and machines, and little BB-8 to see her safely through the night.

She had not touched the light saber since, and would not, never again.  Not unless...well, she just wouldn’t, that was all.

She wouldn’t.

#

In the dream, tears streamed down her face.

“Never.  I’ll never be like you.”  She spoke to Kylo Ren through gritted teeth.

They were back in that awful dark forest, the world ending, the snow falling.  No light sabers between them now, no defense.  He wasn’t touching her, just facing her, one hand reaching out.  He made a grabbing, twisting motion towards her stomach, and a sharp ache made her almost double over.

It was like being kicked in the stomach: not the pain, not the pain of it, but the ache for a long time afterwards while it healed, and hurt all the time.

“Then I’ll kill you,” he said in that strange soft voice of his, taking a step nearer, and then one more.  His eyes reflected strange lights.  And right now, he was not afraid.

And she was: terrified.

“And everyone you love,” he added, as if it was an afterthought.

“My mother.  Your traitor friend.  His lover.  The droid.  I’ll make you watch.  And last of all, I’ll kill--you.  And anyone else you let yourself care about in the meantime.  If I can’t have you, no one can.  Ever.”

He twisted again, and this time she woke up screaming, clutching her guts.

It hurt so much.

BB-8 was trilling and spinning, desperate for her to wake up, sending out alarm calls for her to answer.

It took a moment to catch her breath.  She hadn’t been crying as much as in the dream, but there were tears in her eyes.  And--yes--a terrible pain in her gut.

She held it for a moment, panting, till she gained control.  That had been such a real dream.

It was day, now, and she would be safe till next night.  

Maybe longer.

Wiping tears, catching her breath, she finally swung her legs out of bed and got up to go to the toilet.

Bodily functions waited on no woman--and no nightmares.

Using a clean, flushing toilet was still a novelty--and a relief--in the early mornings.  It was so easy to keep clean here.  Water to wash your body, your hands, even to wash away waste.  Even if--

Blood.

She stopped and stared, appalled.

There was blood in the toilet--blood!  From her body.  She was bleeding to death in the toilet.

No wonder her entire guts ached like they’d been twisted around inside.

Kylo Ren had found a way to reach her.  It hadn’t been a nightmare.

She was dying.  He’d reached her, twisted something inside, and she was now _bleeding to death._

Another sharp jab of pain.  Her eyes wide and staring with horror, she clapped a hand over her mouth, and backed away from the toilet, fumbling for something, anything to help.

Maybe they can fix me.  Maybe surgery--or--

_Help.  Help!_

Clutching her middle, she moved slowly to the sink, trying hard not to hyperventilate.

Would she have time to say goodbye?

_I thought I’d live longer.  I thought I’d survive!_

There wasn’t supposed to be any way he could reach her here.  

She wasn’t supposed to die.

_I survived the wastelands of Jakku.  I’m not going to let this kill me._

Even though her mouth was trembling a little, she firmed her chin and raised her head.  Maybe she was bleeding to death.  Maybe Kylo Ren was a lot more dangerous than she’d suspected.  She’d still go down fighting!

Major Kalonia had saved Finn’s life; maybe she could save Rey’s, too.

_But if he can reach through space and make me bleed...how can anyone be safe from him, from the dark side?_

It made her shiver in horror, not cold.  Another spasm of pain racked her lower midsection; it hurt a lot.

It reminded her of a “humorous” sign someone had posted on a dangerous spot near a power center, where energy rumbled dangerously.   **Not only will this kill you, but it will hurt all the while you’re dying.**

She cleaned up the best she could, and then started down the hall towards the medical bay, only wobbling slightly.  

BB-8 gave a nervous chirp of questioning as he rolled along beside her.  

She looked down.  “Yeah, it’s going to be one of those days, isn’t it?”

He nudged her gently, and when she grimaced and stopped to breathe through the pain, rolled backwards in alarm, tilting his head to look up at her.

Then, coming to a decision, the little droid uttered a loud chirrup and squeal, and rolled down the hall ahead of her at what was, for the droid, a breakneck speed.

Rey watched her friend go sadly.  Not only dying, but it hurt all the while…  Bravely, she continued to the sick bay alone.

 

 

 

 

_to be continued_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two**

 

Deep kisses were interrupted by a noisily trilling droid.  Finn sprang back from his boyfriend.  He should, by now, be used to such interruptions: the little droid could be downright annoying at times.  Particularly if he interrupted while they were kissing.

Kissing Poe was something he didn’t think he’d ever get enough of.  It was just so...so…nice.  Nice definitely wasn’t a good enough word for it, but--

Now he looked at BB-8 with some annoyance.  He hadn’t learned to speak droid, and it was not an easy language.  It made him feel stupid when those around him could understand it so easily.  Both Poe and Rey could understand it.  Rey could even speak it, when she wanted to.

It had startled the heck out of him, the first time he heard her utter a series of whistles and beeps, quite unselfconsciously, in reply to a droid.  

Now Poe was looking at the little droid, kneeling beside him instead of sitting on the bed where he belonged, holding onto Finn and kissing him.  Making out was the best way to start any day…

“What is it?” said Poe in alarm.  “Rey?  What’s wrong with Rey?”

The droid did a series of maneuvers and calls that couldn’t be called anything short of dramatic.  Sometimes Finn thought it enjoyed interrupting them.

“She’s dying?!” repeated Poe in obvious alarm.

Finn jumped up, all thoughts of doing fun things with his boyfriend behind him.  “Where?”

Soon, both guys were running down a hall after the droid.  Rey lived far from Poe’s--and now Finn’s--bedroom.  It was a fairly private corner the General had given her, because Rey was accustomed to privacy and needed time to adjust.  

He’d have had a private room if he wanted, too, but instead, he’d chosen to move in with Poe after he was released from the medical center.  

Now they were running in that direction, running for all they were worth.

As he thought of all the things that could be going wrong, Finn started swearing under his breath.  He ran faster.

_Crushed under one of those machines she’s always working on..attacked by stormtroopers...poisoned...she’ll always eat just about anything!_

Rey was his best friend in the world and she was NOT going down without a fight!

When they caught up with her, she wasn’t yet to the medical bay.  She was walking slowly, and her face looked tight with tension and pain, and maybe like she’d been crying a little, too, although he’d never tell her so in a million years.

Moving in unison, Poe and Finn moved to either side and supported Rey, helping her on towards the medical bay. “What happened?  Did you eat something?  I bet you ate something,” said Finn.  “What do I tell you about eating strange foods?”  

She held herself with a kind of trembling-mouthed tightness that told him she was really, really scared and trying not to let it show.

It showed all right; at least to him, it really showed.

“I had a--a dream with Kylo Ren attacking me.  It hurt.  When I woke up, I was b-bleeding to death.”

Finn felt sick.  He tried to swallow back his disgust and terror and rage.  How could he reach that far?  How?  It wasn’t possible, surely.  But she didn’t look this scared because she’d imagined something.

Was it because they were both Force-sensitive?  Was that it?  

Because he’d connected to her during the interrogation?  Was it possible they all had tentacles of Kylo Ren embedded in their brains because he’d been near them, touched them with his darkness?

Poe stumbled, slowing them down.  “Er--”  He coughed.  

They both looked at him.  

His cheeks were bright red.  “Er, where you bleeding from, Rey?”  He reached up with his free hand and scratched nervously at his curls.

“My privates,” said Rey in a strained voice.  

Finn felt sick.  What a way to go...bleeding out through your most vulnerable spot.  Why, it wouldn’t be as bad to bleed out of your eyes…

She put a hand on her guts as if she could feel them being ripped apart even now.  Finn really hoped he wasn’t going to faint or in some other way let down his best friend.  This wasn’t about him.

He wasn’t the one _bleeding to death._

“That’s…” said Poe in a sort of choking, uncomfortable voice.  He also sounded incredulous.  “That’s not...bleeding to death.”  He shook his head.  “Or at least, it might not be.  Sounds like you had a bad dream, and got your period at the same time.”

They both stared at him.  “What?” asked Finn, in the same moment that Rey’s voice, stressed out and higher than his, asked the same question.  “ _What?_ ”

He stared at them both.  “Period.  Monthly?” he tried again.

Finn shook his head.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.  Let’s just get her to the doctor, man.”

Poe shot him an exasperated look, but cooperated.  He looked at Rey.  “You know what I’m talking about, right?”

“No.  I don’t think we have that on Jakku.  Bleeding out of your genitals for no reason.”  She sounded angry, and Finn couldn’t fault her.

Poe coughed.  “Maybe you don’t,” he said, sad and thoughtful.  “You never really got enough to eat, did you?  And then there’s being so active…”

“Hey, I survived, okay?” said Rey defensively.  

“Hey, don’t kill the messenger.  I’m just saying you might not be dying.  Didn’t you read about...uh...sex, and reproduction?  I thought you were reading everything you could get your hands on?”

Rey looked at him like he was insane.  “What does that have to do with _bleeding_?”

They were still moving down the hall.

“Um.  Oh damn.”  Poe ran a hand back through his curls, and cast Finn a look that asked for help.  

Finn could only stare back.  “Don’t look at me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Why doesn’t somebody cover these things?  Look, there’s a part of your body that can grow the baby, right?  Well, the lining gets shed and discarded every month, if you’re not having a baby.  It’s only women who get this.  Sometimes it’s painful.  I mean, I don’t know, but I’ve heard girls talk about it.  Some of them have lots of pain, some none.  Usually they rest a lot, take pain killers, and try not to kill men who ask stupid questions.”

Rey’s little face scrunched up in confusion, and Finn felt a pang of pity for her.  He knew how much he hated looking stupid, and it wasn’t something Rey was used to at all.  It was almost painful to feel so out of the loop, while everyone else understood things you didn’t.

“I don’t--”  Something cleared in her face, a kind of horror and relief at the same time.  “Discard the lining?  But...doesn’t it just get absorbed?”

“Uh, I think it’s not supposed to.  Unless you’re extremely active and don’t get enough to eat.”  Poe gave her an apologetic expression, a kind of facial shrug.  “It’s not your fault.  I’d think someone would have talked with you about this.”

“No,” said Rey breathlessly.  “I’ve never had a mother.  Nobody like that.”

She looked as if she felt faint, and Finn held onto her tightly.  “Let’s get you to medical anyway, to be sure.  If it’s not...that guy...then maybe you just need some painkillers.”

Finn was a big fan of painkillers.  They made the world a much nicer place when you were hurting.  Even if they didn’t take away all the pain, they made it more bearable.

Inspiration hit Finn.  “Here.  Let me give you a piggyback.  It’ll be quicker.”

Rey looked at him.  “I...I might get you bloody.”

He made a dismissive sound.  “Like I care about that.  C’mere.”  Within moments, he was carrying his best friend to the medbay.  He was right; it was faster.  Finn was strong and motivated, and Rey wasn’t heavy.  He used to run in stormtrooper armor; he could lift a lot more than Rey’s weight.

For a moment, Poe could only stare at them.  Then he shook his head slightly and jogged after them, grinning.  “You guys are the best.”

“You know it,” said Finn, replying in a jaunty voice.  He was doing his best to hide his worry.  Because if Poe was right, then fine and well, they could all laugh about it someday.  But if he wasn’t?  If Rey really was bleeding to death?  

Well, he didn’t know what he’d do without Rey.  It was selfish, maybe, but he didn’t want to ever let her go.

It was a fierce, desperate kind of love he felt for Rey.  It didn’t want anything in return; it wasn’t a desire to touch and kiss.  But it was primal and strong and intense.  He just wanted her to be safe and happy.  He would love her as long as he lived.  He would lay down his life to protect her, if need be.  

They’d formed a strong bond in such a short time, perhaps because they kept rushing in to protect each other, to save each other.  They had formed a strangely close unit of two: the outcasts who had no one, suddenly had one other, one who would do anything to help, to protect, to save…

Now, he carried his best friend and the brightest star in his sky to the med bay, trying to act like he wasn’t scared to death for her.

#

General Leia Organa was as fond of Major Kalonia as she let herself be of anyone.  The woman was kind and compassionate, as well as retaining a spark of good natured humor, and most importantly, she was very good at her job.

Leia didn’t have a lot of female friends, but she counted on Kalonia as someone in whom she could rely.  Neither had the sort of life where one confided in a buddy, or met up for coffee, or shared photographs of their children, or compared their children’s accomplishments.

_Galaxies, no._

_Well, have your children failed to become mass murderers today, Major?  Because I’m pretty sure my one and only son can top that…_

Anything short of patricide would pretty much win child of the year compared to Leia’s son.

She shuddered inwardly.

And yet, she still loved him, in the way only a mother could.  She still believed he could have good left in him, that he could turn away from evil and back to good.

Someday, some way.  But at what cost to the galaxy?  He had already helped to destroy a whole world.  He had caused untold damage and chaos, he had killed and killed again.  He had run from good and to evil, and if there had been a way to save him, she hadn’t been strong enough.

Her mind said _he’s gone._  But her heart said otherwise.  And she could ignore neither.

Han was gone now, and it was only her, and a part of her heart that had been left unbroken was still in the process of breaking, finally and irrevocably.  Her life had been chaos and fighting and danger and so much evil.  It had been filled with hopes dashed and desperate last prayers, and pockets of such sweet delight (her beloved adoptive parents, her brother, husband, and her son…) that she had been able to go on.

Most of those lights had gone out, or been gone for a long time.  A very long time.

The memories of Alderaan’s destruction, when her heart had broken first and worst, had never truly gone away.  One carried on: one did.  And yet...there was always the memory of all that had been lost.

Past a certain point, one couldn’t comprehend such big numbers.  It was a numb lack of understanding.  But to Leia, it had been home, and the destruction was a millions paper cuts of evil.  

There would never be a sunset there again.

Children would never laugh there again (and the children who had been there would never laugh anywhere, or grow up, or change the galaxy for the better, or have a first kiss or learn to fly, or anything, anything at all).

And she had lost her parents, of course.  

One carried on; she was a princess (never a queen, for there was nowhere to be queen of, not anymore), and then a military personnel in the rebellion, now the resistance, always part of something that needed fighting.

It was one way to go on, to make her own survival mean something.

But she had never been a child again.  That nineteen-year-old had died in some way on that day, too.

What was it Vader had said?  You’re far too trusting?  

Well, she never had been again.  She’d never been able to trust anyone wholly, and perhaps it was just as well, because everyone she’d trusted even a bit had let her down.

Luke had run.

Her son had turned to the darkness.

Her husband had left, unable to face the pain and shame of it all.

If you wanted something done right, you needed to do it yourself, not count on anyone else.

And yet, had her inability to count on anyone else left her with so much more to do, so many fewer people to count on?

It was fine and well to fight, to fight forever against the evil in the galaxy, but she was a failure in so many other ways, it hurt to even begin to contemplate it.

They were always a day late and a dollar short, weren’t they?

Sometimes, she wished she could stop fighting, just give up.

But who was going to take up the mantle, if she let it fall?  Who would stubbornly refuse to quit, to be silenced, to let the powers that be handle the problems that nobody wanted to see?

There was no one; there never had been.  The galaxy didn’t have a hero, nor many heroes, it had a bunch of flawed people trying desperately to fight the darkness, the darkness in the universe and in themselves.

And failing.  So often, so thoroughly, failing.

If her own son could fall to it, then what was left?

The same thing that had been left after her heart first died at Alderaan.

Sheer stubbornness.  Force of character--force of will, if you would rather.

She’d be damned to hell and back again if she quit, if she let them win.  If she gave up.  

Everyone else could give up, and she would still keep fighting in the only ways she knew how.  It had cost her everything, and would cost more yet, she knew.  Someday, she would die--but she would die _fighting._

To Leia, survival was one big fuck-you to the galaxy that had been trying to kill her since she was born.

Fighting was the only thing that made life worth going on.

Those pockets of happiness--with Han, and Luke, and Ben, and sometimes with her friends in the work--they had reminded her what she was fighting for--so that other people could have real, happy, safe lives, or at least the chance at them.

Because everyone who had been on Alderaan had never gotten a chance, and never would.

She could not change the galaxy.  But if she could save even one family…

Unfortunately, it had become harder and harder to care.  With Han’s demise, and the...the even greater distance from her Ben to this terror, Kylo Ren (the killer, the torturer), she had noticed a curious blankness in her heart.

She went through the motions, but there was so much in her life she couldn’t actually feel anymore.

Had her heart broken for the last time?

And frankly, did it matter if it had?

What good was feeling things, if it only caused greater pain for everyone involved?

If she hadn’t told Han to bring their son back, would he…?

Would he be alive?  Would Ben not have taken those extra steps into darkness and wickedness by killing his father?

On one level, she knew very well that no one could make Han do anything he didn’t want to do.  But on the other hand, she knew he had died trying to listen to her deepest wish, trying to help, trying to save Ben.

She would never forget that, the way she would never truly forget that she should have died long ago, on Alderaan.  It seemed it was always someone else’s turn to die in her place.  To die without justice at remorseless killers’ hands.

There was something evil in the blood, if both her father and her son could turn so thoroughly to the darkness.  Some days she wished there was no such thing as force sensitivity.

If only she could find Luke again; he had run just as hard as she had from this horror of their family name, if in a different and more concrete way.

If she found him, they could face it together.  They could find some spark of hope, some chance at a way out.

If not to save Ben, then at least to defeat him and his puppet-master.  She could not do that alone, not any of it.

There would be no more children from her, even if she wasn’t too old.  She would never have risked having another after...how Ben turned out.  

Poor Ben.  Such a sensitive boy he’d been, and so troubled, right from the beginning.  

But he could have fought harder.  He could still be fighting it, instead of giving in…

He could have chosen some other hero than one of the more reviled villains in recent history.  Someone marginally less dramatic and evil, perhaps?  Oh, possibly even someone...good?

 _Luke.  Han.  Me.  Anyone but_ that _._

To have her son turn into the horror that her father had become...it was a mother’s worst nightmare.  Because she had done everything she could to prevent it.  Everything.

And it hadn’t been enough.

There was little love left in Leia.  There was little hope.  The tiny sparks were all concentrated on her brother, the only one who could stand by her side now, an equal, the one who could help her fight this badness, and put an end to all the worst things.

Even if it meant Ben had to die, too.

Oh, she hoped still for him to be changed, to be the boy she’d always dreamed he could be--someone kind and decent and true, someone good and gentle, someone who helped instead of hurt, someone who loved, who had the capacity for love.

But he would not help destroy another world.  He would not…

Finding Luke was at a dead end, but at least no one else had found him, either.  At least Snoke didn’t have the last clues that they had all been searching for.

She tried sometimes to call to him with her mind, but her force training had never been as strong as his.  He had, perhaps, closed the link between them, as appalled as she was that those close to him seemed to turn out so bad, that everything had gone so horribly wrong.

If she knew more of the force, could she reach him?

But she didn’t want to know more, when it took so much (everything,  _everything_ ) from those who used it.

It must be like a kind of drug, this thing a person could do with mind and concentration, this connection some had and others lacked.  She didn’t want to be good at that; she didn’t want to control and wield darkness, and be tempted by evil.

She wanted her stubbornness to mean something more than just not giving in to evil; she wanted to use all her strength and mind to fight against evil, to push it back, not to simply take the fight inside her own mind and body, where it only hurt her and did no one else any good even when she “won.”

And she had wanted to have room left for love, too.

There was no one to love now.  Not really--not anymore.

Losing everyone she’d cared for hurt, a lot, and all the time.  She numbed it the best she could with work.

And yet…

There was one who called to her.  Who needed her.

The girl with the hungry eyes, little more than a child, and yet old beyond her years.  She had fought every day to survive her life, and she was no older than Leia had been when Alderaan was destroyed.

There was a hunger in her deeper than words, deeper than even knowledge.  Leia sensed it, and she shrank from it.

She would protect the girl if she could, give Rey kindness and food and shelter, whatever she needed.  But how could she ever dare give the girl what she was constantly, and without seeming to realize, asking for?

Kalonia knew at least some of it, though--more than she should; she was terribly astute.  The ironic look she gave Leia when they had their brief conference about the sick bay told her who would be the subject of today’s briefing.

 _Briefing_ sounded more official than anything like this could be.  Kalonia did not have a bureaucratic bone in her body.  She had instead a limitless capacity for warmth, humor, and kindness.

But she had never lost everything, had she?  And then kept on losing and losing and losing…

Leia tried to silence the negative thoughts and self-pitying bitterness and concentrate on her words.  There was a time for work, and a time for wallowing.  And it was always the time for work.  She could wallow when she was dead.

“You’ll never guess what our young friend Rey had happen today.”

“What?” asked Leia, bracing herself, not wanting to know.  Despite knowing how cliche it was, to think any health issue for a woman stemmed from pregnancy, she immediately wondered if Rey had gotten with child and was panicking about it.

_What a universe to have a child in, to give a child to.  To break your heart over...and over...and over…_

“She had her first monthly period,” said Kalonia, still with humor in her voice, but something more watchful in her eyes.  “She thought she was bleeding to death.  Apparently, she’d had a dream where Kylo Ren was attacking her with the force, and when she woke in up pain and bleeding, she thought she was dying, poor child.”

Kalonia was still watching her.

“Ah.”  Leia tsk’d.  “I hope you set her straight on how things work?”  It sounded so far away and distant...but inwardly, a pang ran through her.

Leia’s first monthly cycle had been a cause of celebration and excitement: one step towards becoming a grown woman, a thing her gentle and kind mother had carefully explained and prepared her to understand.  

It hadn’t been about blood and fear; it had been about growing up, about understanding how human bodies worked, a rite of passage and a bonding time with her mother.  A secret strength all women carried: the ability to make a baby, or at least the possibility of the ability.  A waiting thing, a natural thing, a cycle of cleansing and renewal.  And if there was pain involved, there were also chocolate treats and painkillers, and warm heating pads and her mother’s comfort and kindness.

Being a woman was like being royalty: there were burdens and responsibilities as well as pleasures and joys.  Sometimes more of the burdens than the pleasures, but all part and parcel of the whole.

Rey wasn’t royalty.  She’d had no mother to show her the good sides of growing up.  And apparently, she hadn’t even gotten her monthly until she was nineteen.

“She never got it before?” asked Leia.  Just checking, just to be sure.

Kalonia shook her head.  “It was a combination of her extremely active life, scavenging to survive, and the starvation rations she often received.  The body shuts that down under such stresses, as well you know.”

Leia did know.  She’d stopped eating for a time, after Ben left them…  Kalonia remembered, had helped her get back to a healthy way of living, but it was a painful memory--letting her grief affect her, and feeling the changes in her body (weakness; she’d even fainted once; the lack of a monthly; the ability to get tired after a flight of stairs instead of half a day’s hard labor, etc.).  

She swallowed hard.  “I hope you explained things to her.”

“Oh yes, of course I did,” said Kalonia breezily, a hint of humor and fond exasperation in her voice.  “But, you know, such things often come out better from a layman--or woman.  A doctor can be so terribly clinical about it all.”

“Not you,” said Leia, and meant it.  “You have a better chance of bonding with her than I do.”

Kalonia looked at her a moment.  “Do you believe that?”

“She needs someone she can count on,” said Leia through clenched teeth, no longer pretending to talk about anything beside what they actually were: that someone needed to more or less adopt the girl, take her under her wing and give her the attention and care she’d needed for so long and never received.

“You would never let her down,” said Kalonia.  “And it’s you I see her look to.”

Leia worked with the girl, teaching her what concentration exercises she knew for handling force sensitivity and ability, but neither of them put their hearts into it.  It was as though Rey was as unnerved by the force as Leia herself, and they kept the sessions short, going through the motions, rarely talking about anything.

Leia knew she wasn’t trying with the girl, was in fact holding her at arm’s length.

Kalonia knew, and Rey knew.

But damn, it hurts to care.

One more person to love.  One more person to let down or be let down by.  One more force-sensitive individual who could make her life a living hell, and probably would.

But Rey had never had anyone in that parental role.  And Leia...Leia was like a mother cat whose kittens have died, and who is crying every step she walks, because there is milk to give and no kitten to drink it.  It was a constant ache she could not explain away or chase off, the need to give love to her child, her child who had rejected all love, all nurturing, who had left her for everything she detested in the galaxy.

But she had no child here...there was only Rey, the little orphaned kitten with her big hungry eyes, wanting what Leia had to give, but wouldn’t, couldn’t let herself…

“You would be an excellent role model,” said Leia to Kalona, her voice trembling only a little.  It _hurt_ to talk about this; it hurt a lot.

Why did everything have to hurt so damned much?

“She doesn’t need a role model,” said Kalonia in a quiet, almost fierce voice.  She carefully set down some files.  “Here’s the rest of the infirmity reports.  I’ll let you get back to the important things now.”  

She walked away, without smiling again.

Leia watched her go.

She squeezed her hands into fists.   _Damn her; damn it all.  I do not need to let myself care about someone else.  I do not!  I owe the girl nothing which I’m not already giving her._

She pressed a hand to her forehead, fighting against the intensity of these feelings.  Kalonia might only be trying to help, but what did she know of either of them, aside from medically?

Rey was fine; she was just one girl, one force-sensitive girl--who very much didn’t need a mother figure in her life, at least not one who was Leia, a failed wife and mother and daughter and everything, even, some days, a failed general.

No.

It was not meant to be.

They would find Luke, and he would know what to do with the girl.

Except...he hadn’t been able to fix Ben, had he?

The tormented boy who half the time looked like he wanted to cry, fighting the darkness or running to it, but always, always, so very far away…

Rey was here.  Rey was not a daughter, but she needed her.

_Oh, Luke, where are you?  You could see good in Vader.  Maybe you can see good in Ben, still.  Maybe you can help.  Keep Rey from the darkness, or help Ben find his way home, or something, something besides hiding so far away._

Did he even know anyone was looking for him, that they needed him?  Or did he think this was his just penance, that he had to hide forever, keep himself from causing any other damage?

But the damage was his very absence, and his strength that made Snoke want to destroy worlds and whole systems to keep him from being found.

And he was not here.

But Leia was.  Leia was here, and Rey…

  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry for the delay! real life hit me hard recently...

 

**Chapter three**

  
  
  


“Do you think she’ll like it?”  Finn turned the small potted succulent--a little plant, like a cactus without thorns--around in his hands nervously.

He was so sweet; Poe loved that about him.  Now, he couldn’t help smiling his reassurance to his boyfriend.

They hadn’t officially been boyfriends for very long, but what time it had been together was eminently satisfying.  Poe loved learning new things about Finn, and constantly felt like he wanted to be a better person to be worthy of him.

It was almost a feeling of needing to catch up.  Poe had been raised a certain way, and never had to reject everything and everyone he knew to do the right thing.

Finn had left everything to be with him, to fight for Rey and the resistance.  He had faced Kylo Ren in person, with no likelihood of survival, just because it was the right thing to do.

He was the best person Poe had ever met, and Poe loved him desperately.  A smile could make his heart flutter, and a kiss could make his whole damned day.

Finn was a little shaky on sex, so far, and really self-conscious and easily unnerved--he seemed to think he was going to get in trouble for having sex, a holdover from when it had been forbidden--and there was still a lot to figure out there, or practice, or just grow into.

It was all OK with Poe.  He had never been in love this way, and finding their way, taking their time, was more precious than he’d dreamed it could be.  Poe Dameron had a pilot’s cocky confidence, and he’d always carried that with him into relationships, enjoying and daring and happy, a devil-may-care side of life, a “yeah let’s go for it, live while we’re young” feeling.

It was fun; but this...this was something new.  It wasn’t about fun, exactly: it was about fun and everything else, too.  He’d thought he’d been in love before, but always there was something more important, like flying, or the resistance, or a lot of other things, when push came to shove.

He hoped he’d been a good boyfriend, but now...now Finn came first no matter what, and that was just how it was.  It was a new way of looking at things, and sometimes a scary one.

Poe was no longer self-sufficient; he was smitten, and didn’t even care when people joked about it.  At least, not much: mostly he felt like it was true, and nobody could ever love anyone as much as he loved Finn.

Finn, so sweet and beautiful and perfect and hot and brave, so strong and true and kind.  Finn with the best heart in the galaxy, Finn who had saved the day...who had saved his life, and given him reasons to smile again.

At first, it was frightening.  Had he fallen for Finn because of the rescue?  Because Finn had nearly died a couple of times?  It was a very fast charge into the unknown, everything about Finn.  He’d come so far, so fast, and almost burned out like a shooting star.  (Fighting Kylo Ren?  Man, what was he thinking?!)

But he was here, and alive, and so very precious.

And even the sight of him bringing a gift to his friend, nervously uncertain if she’d like it, could only make Poe smile helplessly.

He hoped they’d grow into a steady relationship, where maybe he didn’t feel like he’d keel over from happiness every time Finn did something sweet, or, you know, just simply  _ smiled at him _ .  But he wasn’t there yet.

No, sir.  Poe Dameron was deep in the love shit.

_ Er.  Or something like that… _

“Come on, she’ll love it,” he said now, encouragingly as he could.  “Rey’s a sucker for plants.  Although I do think you should’ve found a real cactus so she doesn’t try to eat it…”

The joke fell flat when Finn cast him a worried look.  “I don’t want her to hurt herself.”

Finn was still pretty freaked out from this morning.  The whole “is Rey dying” thing had brought out a surge of his protective instincts, and, while it was sweet, Poe was privately appalled that neither of them had known about it.

Apparently female stormtroopers had their cycles suppressed with drugs, and Rey...well, Rey’s life had suppressed hers.  But even the knowledge wasn’t there.

What a universe it was, when a daredevil pilot knew more about the female reproductive system than these two.  

They could take on Kylo Ren and survive, but they didn’t know how the human body worked.

It was almost funny--or it would be, if Rey hadn’t been so frightened.

She was resting in the medical bay now, having had some facts of life explained to her, some painkillers administered, and was relaxing and resting.

Hopefully she wouldn’t have to go to the medical bay every month.  That would be a kick in the pants.  But this first one was hitting her pretty hard, apparently, on the physical as well as emotional side.

Perhaps because of his innocence on the topic, or just his goodheartedness, Finn didn’t have any ingrained “ew, that’s disgusting” instincts, and he didn’t think it was funny or ridiculous that Rey had this bleeding and fear and pain from it.

Poe kind of loved him all the more for that.  He’d never been one to joke about women’s cycles--man, he valued his  _ life _ !--but some men did.  Even perfectly nice people who just lacked empathy in this one area, or were too embarrassed to deal with it any other way.

Finn wasn’t like that.

He wasn’t going to be like that about  _ anything _ .

He had opened his heart to Rey, and somehow to Poe as well, and he would never laugh at their pain, or look down on them.  

If Poe ever had weakness and pain (or flashbacks, or difficulty performing, or any other vulnerability), he knew Finn would have his back, not laugh at him or look down on him.

It was the safest feeling in the world, knowing Finn had your back.

All the same, he’d brought his own present.  He might not be an expert, but he’d known enough girls in his lifetime--even dated a couple, before he was more sure where his own preferences lay--to know a gift of something sweet and soothing might not go amiss right now.

Besides, you couldn’t go wrong with a food gift for Rey.  The girl liked pretty much everything.

One time he’d tried to leave some of his food unfinished, because he was full, and when he’d gone to scrape the extra potatoes into the bin she’d given him such an appalled, indignant look, and taken the food right off his plate and eaten it, in that charming, disgusting, childish way of hers: chewing with her mouth open, gulping it down.

No one had taught her manners.  Well no one had taught her anything.  She’d clawed it all from the universe.  She was like a little wild animal sometimes, thinking only of food and shelter and safety and water.

And other times, she was a beautiful flower with those big sweet eyes of hers, and the world’s most loyal friend, and the most competent creature in the world.  

He found her fascinating, agreeable, occasionally alarming, and most of all (which she could never ever know) he would have loved to protect her, at least in some way, because no one ever had when she was younger.

Rey and Finn had a strong and special bond, and he would never try to get between them, but there was room in their hearts for him in their friendship, and he appreciated it.  

Still, he treaded carefully with Rey.  She seemed conscious always that she didn’t know as much as she’d have liked, that no one had wanted her (until Finn--until he came back for her), and that she had grown up a hungry scavenger scraping out survival on a nasty old sand rock of a world.

Until she could forget the differences in their backgrounds and experiences and jobs, until she had less to prove, he was very careful of how he joked with her, careful of how he treated her, lest she think he was laughing at her, or looking down on her with disdain, and then puffed up and hissed at him like an indignant cat.

The galaxy was a better place with Rey in it, but he had a sense that it was also a very lonely place for her, and that if he treaded carefully, he could have a friend for life--but if he made a misstep, and she couldn’t forget it, he would have an enemy for life.

Not the fierce, fighting kind of enemy, but almost worst: the kind who never trusted him again.  That would hurt him, and it would hurt Finn.

So he was as gentle with her as he knew how to be, and respectful, and hoped it wouldn’t somehow count against him in the long run.

He would love to someday have the sort of friendship he had with other buddies, both male and female, rough and rowdy and confident and jokey.  But right now, Rey had too much of the wounded child in her, despite her unexpected maturity and confidence and strength.

She was still a broken soul trying to find her way in the world, and he’d have helped her if he could…

Now, he and Finn went in to see her together.  Finn, despite his hesitancy about his gift, rushed to her side and clasped her hand.  She squeezed it back, looking up at him.  The long look they exchanged seemed to say they’d made it through another ordeal together, surviving once again--though it had been a close run thing.

Strange that that didn’t make him feel like smiling or laughing.  They had both been through so much recently, would the threat of violent and painful death ever not be the first thing to leap to mind at something new and unexplained?

Perhaps not.  But hoped they could both find peace, Finn hopefully next to him forever.

_ I’m very greedy to want him forever. _  But he did; he couldn’t help that.

He watched them sadly for a moment, before advancing with his own smile and gift to offer.  “Thought you might like these.  How’s it going, kiddo?”

She scrunched her nose up at him.  “Fine.  Don’t call me kiddo.”

“Okay, kiddo.”  He reached out and chucked her lightly on the elbow, and she smiled back reluctantly.

“I’m feeling better now,” she said solemnly.  “You don’t have to feed me.”  But he gaze went curiously and hungrily to the small box of chocolates.

“We wanted to,” he said.

“But don’t eat the plant, okay?” said Finn anxiously.  “I mean, I don’t think it’s edible.”

She gave him one of her warm, rich smiles, filled with love and trust.  “Don’t worry, I won’t.  I’ve learned that much. Plants in pots are looking at.  Plants in pans are for eating.”

Finn burst out laughing like that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, and Rey grinned fiercely, showing her teeth, her eyes sparkling.  Poe laughed too; he couldn’t help it.  These two were a riot.  Just when you thought Rey was the most solemn and serious person in the galaxy, she would make a joke like that…

“You’re doing great,” he told her.  He wasn’t sure why the words slipped out, but he always found himself wanting to encourage her, to tell her to keep at it, that she could conquer her trials and fears the way she’d conquered the heart of the resistance.

“I am,” she said solemnly.  “I’m not dying today.  I know I’m supposed to be embarrassed, but I can’t be.  I didn’t know about that.  I’m not sure I like the idea, either.”  He face scrunched up, probably at the thought of having monthly pain and blood for the rest of her life.  “But it’s better than starving.”

He nodded.  Finn leaned over and hugged her gingerly, saying something quietly to her that sounded like, “I’m so glad you’re alive.”

She hugged him back fiercely.

Then they moved apart, and Rey’s eyes still glowed, proud of Finn and loving him.  Poe wasn’t sure if she’d want him to hug her or not, so he just moved forward and rustled her loose hair.  She usually kept it in braids, but hadn’t had time this morning.

She made a squawk of disgust and swatted at his hand, but she was smiling, so he knew he’d made the right choice.  Sometimes that girl just needed  _ teasing _ .

As they left, Finn and him, he saw General Organa hesitating at the entrance.  Seeing them leave, she pulled herself up to her sleight height and cleared her throat.

“General.”  Poe saluted, and Finn followed his example quickly.  

Even at his most impressive, Poe could never salute with quite the intense precision of Finn.  There were still things he carried in him from the First Order.  But they weren’t all bad.  He’d been a hard worker then, and saluted with quiet dignity, and carried himself with strength.  Those things he could use for good even better than he could’ve for evil.

“Boys,” she said, nodding to them.  It never failed to make Poe feel about five years old when she said something like that.  But he liked it.

Then she dismissed them with a regal look and headed in to see Rey.

Finn lingered for a moment, looking like he wanted to see what was happening, but surely he knew Rey was safe with Leia.  So they left, and headed to the hanger.  Poe had pilots to train; Finn had been helping out around the base with light labor until he was stronger.  Although he was pretty strong if he could carry Rey on his own; and he rarely seemed to have pain anymore.  Not that he’d ever complain when he did...

“You’re going to have to pick a job you want to do soon, buddy,” said Poe, putting an affectionate arm on his shoulder.  He still liked to call him “buddy” as much as he could.  They were boyfriends now, but they were friends first.  

He also loved that he had permission to touch Finn pretty much any time he wanted, slinging an arm around his shoulder in public, giving him a quick kiss in private, snuggling up to him in bed at night to keep warm (and for other reasons).  He just liked Finn; Finn made the universe a better and brighter place.  He made the fight even more worth it.

Finn frowned.  “I don’t know,” he said.  “I like helping.”

“What do you mean?”

Finn waved a hand.  “Doing different things.  Just helping wherever people need me.  It’s better than doing one job, at least for now.”

“Yeah,” said Poe, sunk in admiration.  He was probably learning more this way anyhow.  Whatever modest claims he made, the man was clearly very clever.  And like really clever people, he was never content with the knowledge he had, but wanted to listen and learn and read and figure out more.  He wasn’t sunk in his own cleverness, big-headed and superior; he could listen to others and always learn something.  

That was one reason why people liked working with him so much.  He listened to orders and suggestions with a soldier’s grace, and a clear-headed intelligence and willingness to learn, to help, to grow.  Sometimes, Poe got a little jealous when he heard other people talk about Finn admiringly.  Finn was  _ his _ man.  But most of the time, he managed to be grateful that other people appreciated him, too.

“Okay, that’s cool, man,” said Poe, giving him another warm pat on the arm.  “You do you, Finn.”

Finn gave him a quick, darting look, a brought smile.  His eyes twinkled.  “Okay, but I’d rather do  _ you. _ ”

Poe’s mouth fell open.  He shut it quickly and swallowed.  “Any time, buddy.  You know that.”  And he leaned in and kissed Finn quick, before he could say anything else.

Finn’s arms went around his waist and gave him a possessive squeeze.  It felt so right to be in his arms, to be kissed back.

#

Leia entered the room.

She tried to be strong, to look strong.

Rey was so very young.  Her eyes held both wisdom and innocence.  There were so many things this girl didn’t know.

And she was so vulnerable for someone to take her under their wing and make her feel loved.

Who would Snoke send?  Someone who seemed like a wise friend?  She would never fall for a frontal assault, but she would be loyal to friends till death, or even unto the dark side.

This girl had strength Leia remembered, the heedless strength of youth, that didn’t know what horrors life could hold--or at least, not all of them.

She’d seen enough to know some, though.  She’d seen enough for a lifetime…

Leia smiled uncomfortably.  “Rey.”  She still didn’t have a last name.  But everyone knew who Rey was.  She wasn’t likely to get mixed up with anyone at all, ever...

“General Organa,” said Rey, her eyes alert and wary.  “I’m sorry, I don’t think--”

“No, no training today,” said Leia, interrupting.  “I just wanted to see how you were.”

“I’m okay now,” said Rey.  “I’ve still got a lot to learn, but this is one less thing.”

She was being so brave.

She needed...not Luke, not yet.  She needed someone to invest some time in her, and...and some care.

Really, it was Leia’s duty to mother--no,  _ mentor _ \--the girl.  It was the least she could do for the resistance.  It was the least she could do.

She smiled more honestly now, and sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed.  “You didn’t get a chance to do your hair this morning, I see.”

Rey’s hand flew up to touch her loose hair.  “No,” she admitted.

“Want some help?”

Rey blinked at her several times, then nodded shyly.  “I really only know one style,” she admitted.  “Because that’s what I was wearing when--”  She broke off, then forced herself to continue.  “When I was left behind.  But I thought I needed to stay looking the same, so they’d...they’d recognize me when they came back.”  She met Leia’s gaze.  “No one’s coming looking for me there, anywhere, so I can look however I want to now.”

It explained so much about the girl, and why she had only recently started to wear clothes that were slightly different, as well.  

The memories she had, or so Leia had heard, were filled with confusion and blood and pain, and being left behind.  She had tried so hard not to change, to stay, so that when someone came back for her, the woman who’d told her to stay…  (Mother?  Teacher?  Mentor?  Friend?) ...she would be there, waiting, the good girl who’d listened, whom someone still loved.

So many wounds that might never fully heal.  But she had survived them, strong and stubborn and brave, and still somehow kind.

“I could show you some different styles, if you’d like,” said Leia, her voice sounding very hesitant, almost shy.  “I was pretty adventurous, in my younger years.”  She reached up to touch her current hair self-consciously.  “I used to do all sorts of things with braids.”  Some had worked better than others, but it had all been fun.

“That would be...nice,” said Rey, looking like she didn’t know where to look and was trying not to let on if it mattered to her or not.

“Good,” said Leia.  “I’ll brush your hair out for you and do something simple. If you don’t like it, you can take it out again later.  I won’t be offended.”  She chuckled.  “Believe me, I’m hard to offend.”

She had survived the scrutiny and criticism her adoption had caused on Alderaan--something no one had been fully able to shield her from even at a young age.  She had survived critiques of all the presses about every single thing she did, said, or wore, every pound she gained or lost.  

And then when she was older, there had been her political involvements and decisions that were critiqued by the public at large, as well as everything she did, said, wore, gained or lost, and then eventually, when she had thought there would be no more, ever, the knowledge that she was biologically related to Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader, those two facts had reverberated round and round the galaxy, causing whispers and shock and fear.  

She thought she could survive someone not liking her hair style.

Rey seemed unaccountably flustered, though.  Why?

“I--I’d like that, General,” said Rey awkwardly.

“You can call me Leia.  After all, we’re going to be friends.”

Rey’s smile almost split her face in two.  “Okay,” she said, very softly indeed.  Right now there was nothing world-weary and wary about her at all: she had the stars in her eyes.

Leia fetch a hairbrush and moved so she could sit slightly behind Rey, and reach her easily.  She had ordinary hair, and she sat very still while Leia brushed it.  

It was a strangely soothing moment, to care for someone.  She hadn’t brushed anyone’s hair since Ben was very small.  He’d squirmed a lot, and made her stop as soon as he was “big enough to do it himself.”

Ben hadn’t liked being fussed over.  It had always seemed strange to Leia that he didn’t like to be touched or hugged.  He didn't even liked piggy back rides from his dad.  Who didn’t like that?

There had been so much she didn’t understand, maybe never would.  It wasn’t all to do with the dark side, she was fairly certain, but the dark side had taken advantage of some of it, and he’d rushed into it so eagerly, glad to be rid of his family…

She pushed the familiar, sad thoughts away and concentrated on the present, on brushing Rey’s hair.  Rey sat very rigid, as though afraid to move.  

“You’re all right.  You can relax,” said Leia.  “Let me know if it hurts.”

“It--it doesn’t,” said Rey in a breathless, almost tearful sort of voice…

“Good.  About your monthly,” added Leia.  “Would you let me tell you something my mother told me?”

Rey nodded quickly.  “I--I’d like that.”

Talking quietly, she worked with the girl’s thin, straight brown hair.

And the rest of the world fell away.

#

When Finn next saw Rey, she seemed very happy.  Her hair was in a different style, and every once in a while, she reached up to gingerly touch the intricate braided design.  She walked with a new confidence in her step, looking tall and...majestic?  Was that the word he wanted?  

At any rate, she didn’t look like she was getting ready to scrap with someone over the last piece of bread on the plate, the way she sometimes did, or fierce and sad and trying to be brave and not remember bad things. 

No, she looked like she was looking forward to good things.  What a nice change.

She saw him, and immediately smiled, wide and whole-hearted.  She didn’t hold back from smiling at him, and he loved that about her.  She never faked how she was feeling, or pretended…

“Guess what?” she said, hurrying up to him.  It was hard to believe they’d thought she was dying just yesterday.  

“What?” he said, opening his arms for her to move into them and give him a hug.  He really didn’t think he’d ever get tired of getting or giving hugs…

Behind her, BB-8 beeped, as if he also wanted to know what.  He’d really taken to Rey, and Finn couldn’t blame the little droid.

“The general's teaching me things.”

“What, force things?  Yeah, I knew about that.”

“No, not that.  Regular things.  Human things.  People stuff.”  She smiled, and reached up to touch her hair self-consciously.  “Like hair.  And fancy manner stuff you need if you’re in diplomatic situations.  And...and  _ stories _ .  She has so many stories, Finn.  I really like the general.”  Her eyes shone.  “She’s good with hair, too.  And cooking.  Not like, fancy things.  Just...how to make eggs from scratch instead of a rehydrated pouch.  That sort of cooking.”

“Wow,” said Finn, impressed.  He wouldn’t mind learning how to do that himself…  “She’s pretty amazing, huh?”

“Yes,” said Rey firmly.  “And someday, I will be, too.  I’ll--I’ll know all this stuff, and...and I won’t be stupid about ordinary things ever again.”

“You’re not stupid.  You never could be,” said Finn firmly.  “But that’s really cool of her.”

“Yeah.”  

Something about her seemed more settled than he had seen in some time, like she was finally starting to feel at home and not so restless.  

His stomach growled, and he remembered his mission.  “Oh, hey, you want to eat with me and Poe?”

She looked at him.  He looked at her.  

“You sure?  I know you two like to be alone…”

“I’m sure,” he said.  “We can be alone later.  I still want to spend time with you.  You’re my best friend, Rey.  And Poe thinks you’re cool, too.”

“He’s right,” she said with a solemn face, before bursting out laughing.  That was Rey, wanting to lighten the mood if anyone got emotional...

“He  _ does _ ,” insisted Finn, smiling.  

He wanted to show her once again that she was still welcome in his life, always would be, no matter what changed for either of them.

“C’mon.  Piggyback ride,” he told her.

Rey’s face split in a shy, sweet grin.  “Really?  Okay.”  She hopped onto his back and wrapped her arms around his chest to hold on.  It was kind of like another hug...

He carried her all the way to the cafeteria, and pretended to grumble when she teasingly told him to go faster because she was hungry  _ now _ .  

He would always have time for this sweet girl.  He hoped she would always have time for him.  Somehow, he thought she would.

  
  


The end


End file.
